


Thoughts of You

by ElvaWrathbringer



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Imperial Officers (Star Wars), POV Female Character, POV Male Character, Pre-Star Wars: The Old Republic, Romance, Science Fiction, Sith Code, Sith Pureblood, Sith Warrior Storyline, Sith Warrior Storyline Spoilers, Spoilers, Strong Female Characters, The Dark Side of the Force
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24061954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvaWrathbringer/pseuds/ElvaWrathbringer
Summary: Vyra Skal, an unprecedentedly talented Sith, and Malavai Quinn, a stubbornly dedicated Imperial officer, are brought together by the will of Lord Baras, a situation neither is entirely pleased with. Vyra is caught in a continual conflict between her ambition, her master's will, and the veiled threat that has hung over her since she was a child. Never above a little strategic groveling, Quinn maneuvers himself into a position to regain his career. Unfortunately, he keeps getting distracted.[Rated M for later chapters]
Relationships: Malavai Quinn & Female Sith Warrior, Malavai Quinn/Female Sith Warrior
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. The Sith & The Imperial

"Who are we looking for again?"

"Malavai Quinn, Lieutenant." Vyra slammed her palm against the side of her datapad, trying to clear the static from the screen. "His offices are supposedly around here somewhere."

The nav program was malfunctioning again. 2V-R8 would have to fix it once she got back to the ship and he finished doing whatever that infernal droid did when he wasn't groveling.

"Your master couldn't be bothered to give you a datapad that worked, huh?"

Vette was leaning dangerously far over the railing by the Balmorran transport pad, her blue head-tails hanging down toward the stims vendor standing below them. She had been intently inspecting his wares, seeing if there was anything good to steal, no doubt. The map flickered on long enough for Vyra to guess where the building was. She switched off her datapad, tossing it to Vette.

"We'll try over there. How hard can it be to find one Imperial?"

Imperial soldiers edged the buildings, leaning against the walls to chat or patrolling, their eyes warily skimming over the crowds. Vendors, natives, and a few travelers wandered the dirt streets, a blend of species dressed in their native garb, brightening the drab city and coloring the air with their cryptic dialects. All moved aside as she approached, their gazes nervously lingering as she passed. She let her hips sway, drawing attention to the twin lightsabers hanging from her belt. Only a fool stood in the way of a Sith. Ahead lay a squat building with a low doorway, a small Imperial emblem painted on the wall by the entrance.

"Keep up, Vette!" she snapped at the Twilek, who had stopped to gawk at a dealer's wares, before striding into the dim office.

"What do you think he's like?" Vette asked, darting into the room after her and looking skeptically up at the Imperial banners on the hallway wall.

"No doubt some grizzled Imperial nit whose brain has been baking in the sun too long on this backwater. Knowing the caliber of soldier Baras attracts, he probably has a giant stick up his—"

Vyra stopped in the doorway to the administrative center, catching sight of her contact across the room. Well…that wasn't what she expected at all. A surprisingly young officer was yelling at some poor armored grunt who looked like he was about to piss himself. His gray uniform hugged his trim waist, and his black hair was swept back, though a few stray pieces stubbornly stuck out over his forehead. He sounded deliciously furious; she could almost taste rage on the air.

"Up his what?" Vette demanded, grinning, but Vyra ignored her, leaning against the doorframe to watch.

He grabbed the soldier's collar, yanking him into his face, his angry voice echoing off the walls. The other members of his staff huddled at the console tables in the center of the room, intently focused on their work but occasionally casting nervous glances up at the command console where their leader was still loudly berating their coworker.

"Did he just threaten to kill that man?" Vette whispered.

"I believe he did."

"Aaaand she smiles," Vette sighed. "I should have stayed on the ship."

Dismissed and almost thrown down the stairs, the soldier practically ran past them out the door. The officer smoothed his uniform, casting his gaze across the room. It lingered when he noticed them in the doorway, and Vyra straightened up, pacing forward to join him.

"Ah, Lord Baras's apprentice, I presume." He bowed gently. "Lieutenant Malavai Quinn, at your service, my lord."

How polite.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Vyra said, for once almost meaning it.

He examined her for a moment before nodding and clasping his hands behind his back, his stance wide.

"And you. I will be serving as your liaison on Balmorra, my lord. Lord Baras will brief you directly, but he requested that I acquaint you with the climate on the planet first."

"Let me guess. The Republic is being a horrid nuisance while you and your valiant band of soldiers defend the Empire's sacred honor. Duty, valor, and the like."

A slight smile curled at the corner of her mouth as he cleared his throat, obviously displeased with her taking over his briefing. She'd let him tell her what she needed to know, but she wanted to play with him first before she had to talk to that metal monstrosity of a master.

"The situation on Balmorra is... slightly more complex than that, my lord, though I suppose that is an accurate assessment."

"Then by all means, Lieutenant" - she crossed her arms - "Enlighten me."

"While the Empire does officially hold control over the planet, we've not been able to completely eradicate the Republic presence. There is a rather sizeable resistance movement which we suspect has Republic backing."

"Bastards," she smirked.

Resistance. That was a typical Republic ploy, using the natives to do their dirty work. Baras had sent her to do a job, not fight a war, but there was no reason she couldn't part a few Republic soldiers from their heads while she was here. The Lieutenant nodded curtly.

"I will patch Lord Baras through."

She looked him over appraisingly, amused by his dedication to keeping this meeting professional and to the point. The blaster at his hip looked almost new except for the wear on the handle. His uniform was impossibly crisp and delightfully well-fitting. She raised an eyebrow as he bent over the holocommunicator, smirking as Vette caught the direction of her gaze and clamped a hand over her mouth to hide her laughter.

Vyra's face dropped to impassivity as Lord Baras flickered onto the holocommunicator, and the Lieutenant took his leave, ordering his staff out of the room. Toying with him was going to be deliciously diverting.

"And I didn't get you anything, Baras," she murmured to herself.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

"Distress signal coming from the satellite tower, Lieutenant. It's been jammed, and we've tapped into comms. Visuals are online."

"Thank you, Ensign."

The Sith must have arrived. Quinn flipped on the console viewing screen and switched between the feeds, pausing at the door leading to the mainframe. Three battle droids stood guard outside, and the other feeds had revealed others patrolling the hallways. Time to watch the massacre...if she even made it this far. Her appearance had hardly been impressive: average-height human female, slight build, dark hair and unusually pale skin, backed by a slave of all things. He might as well holo Lord Baras now and tell him a new apprentice would be required.

A side door slid open and three more droids rushed out as the wavering figure of the Sith appeared at the end of the hallway, her sabers glowing. Quinn leaned on the console, rubbing his jaw. With a flick of her wrist, one of the droids hurtled into the wall, breaking in half. A blur flew across the room, and two more fell to blindingly quick slashes. He leaned closer, riveted, his hand dropping from his chin. A lightsaber flew from her hand, slicing another neatly in half while her now empty hand clenched into a fist and the droid closest to her collapsed in a shower of sparks. She snatched her lightsaber from the air and whirled, cutting the last one into three pieces. Hunks of sparking metal littered the room, and in the center, completely unharmed, the Sith surveyed the damage before tucking her lightsabers back into her belt.

"Twenty-seven seconds," he murmured, glancing at the console.

She'd taken them out in under a minute. The Twilek darted into the room and knelt next to the mainframe door, working at the panel. One of the droids behind them started twitching, reaching for a blaster. A hunk of twisted metal flew through the hallway, crashing into it and snapping its head off in a shower of sparks. The body crumpled to the floor. She hadn't even turned around. This was... The screen flickered and went black.

"Ensign!" Quinn bellowed, whirling to see the Ensign standing behind him, his mouth hanging open, his eyes locked on the viewing screen.

"On it, sir!" he exclaimed, scrambling down the stairs and nearly slamming into a woman trying to ascend them.

She shot him a dirty look before handing Quinn a dossier.

"This just came in from your contact, sir."

He skimmed through it then nodded curtly to her.

"I'll be in my barracks. Get the blasted comms back online."

He strode to the side room serving as his personal quarters, locking the door behind him and inputting a call into the holocommunicator. He bowed as the hologram wavered to life.

"Lord Baras, I apologize for disturbing you. We've intercepted communications from the Jedi investigator I've been tracking. She apprehended a Republic Ensign and has expressed an intention to interrogate him. He's currently being held in the Crater Outpost. From my files, he appears to be the son of a Republic Commander. A" — he glanced back at the dossier — "Commander Rylon. I thought you should know."

"A wise decision, Lieutenant," the Sith's deep voice responded. "My apprentice will take care of it. Prepare the details for her."

"Very good, my lord."

The small comms console in Quinn's room pinged, and the staticky voice of the Ensign cut in.

"Charges just came online, sir. Awaiting your orders."

So she'd succeeded. Quinn clasped his hands behind his back.

"My lord, it appears your apprentice has completed her mission at the satellite tower. I can patch her through if you wish to speak with her."

"Proceed."

Quinn switched signals, and the Sith wavered onto his holocommunicator, her hand braced on her hip.

"Miss me already?"

"Lord Baras for you, my lord. Patching him through."

He sat back in a chair, rubbing his chin. Despite his doubts, Baras's choice had proven to be extremely competent. Months of planning had failed to yield a viable attack plan for that blasted tower, but she had done it in under a day and made it look easy. Its destruction would serve a crippling blow to Resistance communications, disorganizing them for months. Still, the tower was one thing; the Crater Outpost was another. No decent reason sprang to mind of why Baras would care about the Ensign. Baras's apprentice wavered back onto the holocommunicater, shaking him out of his thoughts, and he leapt to his feet.

"The charges are registering as armed, my lord. I will detonate once you are at a safe distance."

"Lieutenant, I had no idea you cared."

He thought he heard laughter, and the Sith glanced sideways, her mouth twitching into a smirk. That Twilek was probably causing an inopportune distraction.

"I would hardly jeopardize your safety after such a rousing success, my lord. I understand you will be mounting an assault on the Republic Crater Outpost. The necessary directions will be sent to your datapad. I will be tracking the investigator and alert you if she is en route. If you require any further information regarding the Republic Ensign, I am here to provide whatever you might need."

It was a weak attempt, but curiosity got the better of him. If she needed information, he might be able to glean some. Her eyebrow cocked.

"I will certainly keep that generous offer in mind."

More laughter. Blasted Twilek.

"Of course." He bowed his head. "Good luck on your mission, my lord."

The feed switched off abruptly.

"You'll need it," he muttered.


	2. Death & Honor

This couldn't be her target. Not this sniveling coward with piss running down his leg huddled in the back of a cell. She'd killed for Baras before, but this was beneath her. Vyra sighed, slamming the cell door release. She yanked a blaster from the severed arm of the brig security guard, tossing it at the Ensign's feet.

"Pick it up."

His hands trembled violently as he reached for it, dropping it twice before he managed to grip it and point the shaking barrel at her. She tugged a lightsaber from her belt. It flashed to life, and she dropped into a fighting stance, but the blaster clattered to the ground, and the Ensign threw his hands up to shield his face, cowering. She lowered her lightsaber in frustration.

"Fight, you coward!"

"I d-d-don't have a chance. You'll slaughter me."

Undoubtedly true. Perhaps some extra motivation was required.

"Do you know where I'm going after this?" she asked, pacing impatiently outside his cell. "To kill your father. You have a chance to stop me, so pick it up."

"H-h-he's already as good as dead, but I-I don't want to d-d-die. I won't tell, I swear! When you k-kill him, his secret dies with him!"

"Oh, you are a marvelous son," she snorted, biting back the urge to gag.

The stench of urine and fear was quickly becoming overpowering. He fell to his knees at her feet.

"I'll pay you! I-I know things. A-a-about...the Republic. Tell me what you want."

"I want you to pick up the blaster," she growled. "Die with at least a shred of your honor intact."

"N-n-no. If I don't, you won't kill me."

Perhaps he was smarter than he looked. It was an annoying but unavoidable truth. This might take a while. The Lieutenant's information had provided her the best route inside. But the longer she lingered, the more time the Republic had to regroup, and unfortunately, the brig she was currently standing in lay at the heart of the outpost.

"I am losing my patience," she snapped. "Pick it up."

Vette's head appeared in the doorway behind her.

"Hey, so, not to break up this touching moment, but reinforcements are arriving."

"Seal what doors you can, but don't block our exit."

"You got it."

The Twilek's blue head disappeared back into the hallway. Vyra turned back to the cell in time to see the Ensign dart past her, sprinting for the door. She rolled her eyes, tensing to chase after him, but he slipped in a puddle of blood, tripping over one of the many bodies strewn around the room, and crashed to the floor.

"Killing you is a mercy," she hissed, stalking after him. "No one should live in such a pathetic state. How could a successful father produce a worm like you?"

"M-m-my father..."

The Ensign started weeping, curling up into a ball. A low ache was building between her eyes, and she was fairly certain the stink of piss would permanently taint her robes. Surely something could get this pathetic coward to fight.

"Your father..." she murmured, cocking her head at him. "Your father is responsible for your death."

"W-wh-what?" His face turned up to her, streaked with blood and mucus.

She paced agitatedly, her eyes locked on him.

"It was his actions that brought me here, his foolishness. In fact..." she curled back her lips, sneering at him. "I bet he wanted this. How else would Baras have found out what he told you?"

"Y-y-you're lying, Sith. He w-w-wouldn't do that."

"Oh? Then where is he? This renowned Republic Commander. From what I understand he has an entire battalion at his call, and yet..." She gazed around the room at the lifeless bodies of the Republic guards she'd killed fighting her way in. "Here you are. Alone."

"He p-probably doesn't know."

"Of course. A distinguished man like that has better things to do than keep track of his only son."

Her words found the weakness she'd been searching for, and she hungrily watched his response. A slight dilation of the pupils, a quick intake of breath. The hair stood up on her arms. She should have known love wouldn't be enough, but hate...

"You must be very lucky to have a father like that," she pressed. "Such a powerful man." His ribs shuddered, and a strangled sob burst out. It was close. "I can only imagine the advantages he gave you, the prestige, the respect. What an honor to die for him."

His fist clenched, and he glared at her.

"Shut up!"

The darkness was palpable now, and she licked her lips, gripping her hilt until her knuckles turned white.

"A commander, a veteran. How very proud he must be of you."

"I said, shut up!" he screamed, his gaze fixed on her, his chest heaving. His hand slammed against the blood-soaked floor, his anger overwhelming all traces of distress. "You don't know anything, Sith! My father only cares about his duty! All I've ever done is disappoint him."

There, buried deep beneath the fear and the groveling, wretched and writhing like a caged animal gone mad from imprisonment, lay the truth.

"Yes," she hissed, clenching her fist. "Your father ignored you, didn't he? Ridiculed you, shamed you, and now you will die... For what? Because of that man? That man who gave you nothing. He could be watching us now, laughing."

The whites of his eyes glimmered in the glaring light of the brig, the black centers eclipsing all color left in his bloodless face. His breathing rasped erratically.

"My whole life, I've n-n-ever been good enough, and now... I-I didn't ask him to tell me! I didn't want this! This is his fault!"

Sensation crept up her spine, anticipation of the kill, the stirring of rage in the room. She let her head fall back, breathing it in, her own hatred deepening. Not for this poor fool — she would give him the best death she could— for her master. For the man who sent her here to this humiliation. The Ensign gripped his hair, his shoulders shaking.

"I-I don't want to die like this!"

He struggled to his feet, snatching a blaster from a nearby body and firing wildly at her. Her saber flared to life. She deflected the shot and threw herself across the room, halving him with a sweep of her blade. His knees hit the floor, his torso landing with a thud next to him, the blaster still clutched in his hand.

"Pathetic," she sighed, stepping over the body.

~:~:~:~:~

Quinn scanned over the assault plan for the arms factory, readjusting for the recent Zeldrate attack on a Republic patrol. Apparently the wildlife hated them as much as he did. This was a futile task at best, but Lord Baras insisted he have it ready for the Sith's return. She hadn't checked in since he'd sent her the details on the Crater Outpost and was no doubt lying in a bloody heap somewhere in the Balmorran plains. Still, the satellite tower, now a smoking crater, was a fair consolation for her failure to strike a blow at the outpost. Maybe Baras was intentionally trying to kill her. If so, it wasn't a bad plan. He'd have to file that away for future use. An Ensign appeared next to his shoulder.

"Lieutenant, I have the schematics you asked for."

"Load them into the console."

He moved aside to give the Ensign access and stretched his stiff neck, rubbing at the tense muscles. He had no idea how long he'd been sitting there. A figure in the doorway caught his attention. The Sith's pale eyes met his gaze, and she paced across the room toward him, examining his staff warily as she passed. There wasn't a scratch on her, but her black clothing had been traded for a red robe over tan leg wraps.

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?" she asked, a thin eyebrow lifting.

"No, my lord," he quickly responded, realizing he'd been staring. "I'm just... I'll be honest; your return has surprised me. I calculated the chances of success as nearly negligible." He usually left a reasonable margin for error in his calculations, but this was a complete oversight. "Of course, my assessment only considered the capabilities of a typical Sith," he mused, furrowing his brow. "Clearly, you are anything but. I will adjust future calibrations to take that into account."

His plans for the arms factory would need serious revisions. The corner of her mouth twitched into a wicked smirk.

"How sweet of you."

A loud snort from the other side of the room drew his attention, and he glanced over to see the Twilek leaning against the door by the wall, trying desperately not to laugh. Their expressions suggested they were taunting him, but her statement didn't indicate any overt ridicule.

"I'm not above admitting when I'm mistaken, my lord."

"Personally, I make it a point never to be mistaken."

She was grinning at him, her arms crossed, one hip casually thrust to the side. A response to that irrelevant display of ego failed to form and her relentless gaze was disconcerting, so he opted for a respectful nod.

"I trust your mission went according to plan then, my lord," he said, hoping that since it was over she would finally reveal what it was Baras had wanted from a lowly Ensign.

"I think you'll find the Republic a little less resistant," she replied with a faint shrug.

He would suffer in ignorance then.

"Very good. Lord Baras is waiting for your call. My barracks are at your disposal."

Her grin only deepened. It was making him uneasy. Thankfully, she turned and made her way across the room, stopping to glare at an Ensign until he scrambled out of her path. At least his work hadn't been in vain, and Quinn turned back to his planning with renewed vigor, motivated by the previously unexpected possibility of success. He was revising projected Republic losses when the console beeped, and Darth Baras's voice rang out.

"Lieutenant, your presence is required."

The Sith was waiting for him in his room, leaning against the holocommunicator, her gaze examining the bed and personal storage locker at the far end of the room. Quinn bowed, handing her the file.

"My lord, the plan for your assault on the arms factory."

"Let me guess," she smirked, loading the file on her datapad. "I get in, wreak death and havoc, get out, and you blow it halfway across the galaxy."

"I suppose that is the gist of it, yes." Which she would know if she had just listened. "Though we would prefer to man it with Imperial forces. The resistance seized control of the factory several months ago and have been all but impossible to dislodge. I am excited by the prospect of you laying waste to that place."

It was almost enough to make him smile. Her gaze flickered up to him, her mouth twitching into an insolent smirk.

"Do I excite you then?"

Her gaze raked over him, her smile widening, and her intention slammed into perspective, almost knocking him off his feet.

"I... uh... Th-that is not what I meant." He cleared his throat, adjusting his uniform and trying to regain his thoughts. The meaning of his statement should have been perfectly obvious. "I simply find the outcome of your influence on the Balmorran landscape an exciting prospect."

Her eyes were still locked on him, and he rubbed a nervous hand over his jaw.

"May I... continue with the briefing, my lord?"

"If you must," she sighed, looking back at the screen with a bored expression.

He cleared his throat once more, trying to shut her piercing gaze out of his mind and remember where he had left off before she had derailed their conversation yet again.

"While the exact defenses are unknown, inside you will no doubt find state-of-the-art security, attack droids, and at least a battalion of elite soldiers. Details are a bit... hazy past that, but I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle."

"Is that all?" she tsked. "You really must try to find an actual challenge for me, Lieutenant."

"I...will keep that in mind, my lord."

She sighed, jamming her datapad into her belt.

"Don't get too comfortable without me," she called over her shoulder, disappearing into his office where the Twilek was still waiting.

He let out a sigh of relief, realizing he had been holding his breath. Even with battle imminent, she spent her time propositioning him. Her effectiveness in the field was indisputable, but the logic of her tactics was beyond his comprehension. Her attention might be viewed as flattering to some, but this was hardly the time or place. The holocommunicator beeped with an incoming call, and he quickly accepted it.

"Lord Baras?"

The Sith master towered above him.

"Has my apprentice departed on her mission, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, my lord. She just left."

"Good. We have much to discuss."


	3. The Assignment

"She killed her former master, my head apprentice, and several over initiates within the academy." Baras paced as he spoke, his armored hands clasped behind his back. "She has proven herself to be volatile and treacherous, power crazed. It will only be a matter of time before she decides to strike against me."

Quinn frowned, taking this in. She had certainly displayed a proclivity for unwarranted bouts of ego, but he had assumed that was typical of all Sith, having never met a humble one. Her supposedly harmless bragging seemed more sinister now that it was placed in perspective, and her adeptness for killing more a threat than an asset, especially since it was clearly not reserved from those who should be her allies.

"Her presence is useful to me," Baras continued. "She is an effective arbiter of my will, but make no mistake, Lieutenant. She is a threat."

"What would you have me do, my lord?"

With limited time to study her offensive tactics and only a few men at his command, it was doubtful he could take her out. Perhaps a more subtle approach. There were a few reliable sources of poison within the city, but without a better understanding of Sith metabolism, it might do little more than piss her off.

"For now, continue as you have," Baras replied. "Ensure her missions succeed. When the time is right, I will make a show of freeing you from the shackles of Balmorra. In truth, your new assignment will be to her."

"To what end, my lord?"

"Hers. Follow her, serve her, learn her, do what you must to ingratiate yourself. When the time is right, I will contact you, and we will put a stop to this threat. Your signal will be a single word: Purify. This mission must be of the utmost secrecy. Clean house as needed to ensure your departure from Balmorra is...uncompromised."

The hologram vanished, and Quinn sat at his comms console, absently rubbing his chin. Baras's briefing only confirmed his discomfort around this woman. Still, the potential of leaving Balmorra was a relief even if meant following a power-crazed killer across the galaxy. Ten years on this backwater had been a price he'd willingly paid, but now he had the chance to get out. There was much lost time to be made up for, and his mind swam with opportunities, plans to be formulated.

None of the officers at his command knew much about his work for Baras, so there was little to put in order before his departure. Reassigning them far away from each other seemed the wisest course of action.

"Lieutenant," the Ensign's voice rang out on the comms console, interrupting his musings. "We have a... situation."'

Never an encouraging statement.

"What is it?"

"We've tapped into the Jedi investigator's communications. She's receiving an audio signal from the arms factory. You...probably want to hear this, sir."

Quinn strode out of his barracks, joining the Ensign at the administrative console.

"Where is it coming from?"

"According to the schematics, Commander Rylon's personal quarters. The Sith is there, sir."

Rylon. For the second time, that name had appeared in his investigations. That had to be more than coincidence.

"Clear out, Ensign," Quinn ordered.

The Ensign saluted and hurried down the steps, leaving Quinn alone with the incoming signal. The audio crackled with static as he tried to reduce the satellite interference.

"Dead," the Sith's voice rang out. "Coated in his own piss. A true testament to your legacy."

"I feared as much," a voice sighed that Quinn assumed must be Rylon. "He was always weak."

He leaned closer, curious why she hadn't just killed him. They spoke with almost familiarity.

"The only failing is your own," she snapped. "If you'd kept your mouth shut—"

Static drowned out her voice, and Quinn frantically tried to reconnect, uselessly slamming his palm on the console.

"They were good men, Sith," Rylon's voice reappeared. "It's a pity they served the wrong side."

His mouth dropped open as the meaning of this statement sunk in. Rylon was a double agent. But that didn't explain the Sith's presence. If she had intended to rendezvous with him, breaking into his base and killing half his men was hardly subtle. Baras had initiated the assault, so he had to assume she was there for a good reason.

"The pity is that they served you," she spat. "But since you love them so much, I will gladly lay you down to rot among them."

"We must make this look real. There will need to be signs of a struggle."

The hum of lightsabers cut through the static.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Blaster fire crackled, followed by the buzz of deflected shots, but all was eclipsed by the whir of slashing sabers until silence fell. Quinn strained to hear something... anything and was about to check if he'd lost the signal when a metallic clatter that sounded like a blaster falling to the floor floated through the speaker.

"It has been an honor to serve Lord Baras," Rylon panted.

A derisive laugh cut through the room.

"You've truly lost your mind, Imperial." The whir of sabers rose again then disappeared. "And now your head."

"Did you have to decapitate him?!" the Twilek cried out in disgust.

"Best way to ensure death, Vette. And good riddance."

Baras's words returned in full force: volatile and treacherous. Years of service to Baras, to the Empire, and she cut him down with such indignity. Quinn's fist clenched. He had tracked Rylon's forces and their successes over the years, and while the Republic would always be his sworn enemy, their efficiency and decisive victories had gained his respect. Clearly Baras was cleaning up a loose end taking out Rylon — an unfortunate reality of spy work — but he died willingly, out of loyalty, while she mocked him.

"Lieutenant!" the Ensign called out behind him. "The investigator is on the move."

Clever little bitch had heard everything. Well, so had he.

"Cut her off," he ordered and the room erupted into a flurry of activity. "I want her pushed toward the spaceport."

"Reports coming in, sir," a voice yelled from the other side of the room. "She's carrying a lightsaber."

He jammed the controls on the holocommunicator, putting a call through to the Sith. He clasped his hands behind his back, careful to keep the hatred from his face when she wavered into sight.

"I finally have a challenge for you, my lord."

~.~

An armored soldier met Quinn at the entrance to the spaceport, jogging to keep up as he strode through the crowded halls flanked by his men.

"We maneuvered her to the far hangar, sir. The Sith is already inside."

"Good. Spread your men out. Cover all the exits. She doesn't leave here alive."

"Understood, sir." The soldier saluted and ran back down the hallway.

When Quinn paced into the hangar, the Jedi was on her knees at the foot of a ship's ramp — the ship no doubt intended to take her to safety — clutching her side. The Sith's lightsaber glowed next to her throat, casting them in an ominous red light in the dim hangar. At least the Sith had the decency to look winded, and a long burn marred the sleeve of her red robe. He almost regretted the Jedi hadn't finished her off, but then he would still be stuck on Balmorra.

"Kill me if you will, Sith," the Jedi panted. "I die secure in the knowledge that the Jedi and the Republic will soon know of Baras's treachery. I already transmitted the recording of his spy's confession to the council."

"I hate to ruin the moment," Quinn cut in, pacing up next to them. "Wait... Actually, I'm reveling in it. I intercepted your transmission. Your Council has nothing."

The Sith may have fought her way through the enemy forces, but it was his information that had gotten her inside, his intel that had uncovered all of this, his work that had squashed the Jedi's attempts once and for all, and he wasn't wasting the opportunity to rub it in.

"Clever Quinn," the Sith murmured, her lips curving into a smile.

The Jedi let out a strangled groan of frustration then sighed.

"It matters not. You will not succeed. You and Baras will fall. Your doom is already in place."

Quinn frowned, but the Sith seemed unphased, moving her saber closer to the Jedi's face until she winced.

"Really? Tell me more of this doom."

"You will get nothing, so strike me down." The Jedi bowed her head in quiet resignation.

Quinn waited for the Sith to take the final blow, but she just laughed, sheathing her saber and returning it to her belt.

"Pleading for death? You Jedi are weak. Well, I will not grant you that mercy." She turned to Quinn. "Have her taken to my ship. I will deliver her to Lord Baras personally." Her gaze turned back to the Jedi, disgust clear on her face. "Then we shall see how passive and forgetful you are when you endure true suffering."

At his word, Quinn's men clamped restraints on the Jedi, leading her away. The Sith drew closer to him, her eyes fixed on his.

"Impeccable timing, Lieutenant."

He clasped his hands behind his back, trying to keep his face passive despite her nearness making his skin crawl. "Lord Baras will want an update, my lord. I can put the call through when you're ready."

"Very well," she sighed. "I shall meet you there shortly."

"I will await you in my barracks then, my lord."

That shameless smirk returned, tugging at the corner of her mouth. Blasted woman. Why did she have to do that? She knew what he meant. He spun on his heel, stalking out of the hangar.

~.~.~.~.~

"I wish you could see my smile, apprentice," Baras crowed, his bulk towering above Vyra on the holocommunicator in Quinn's barracks.

His heavy metal mask made that impossible, but she doubted seeing his face would do much to improve her opinion of him.

"Rylon eliminated, and the Jedi investigator silenced," he continued. "A resounding success beyond even my highest expectations."

She bit back a growl at his veiled insult. Her gaze flickered to Lieutenant Quinn standing passively beside her, watching Baras. Apparently, keeping the details of her mission from him, which Baras has repeatedly insisted, was no longer important, unless—

"And Lieutenant Quinn's contributions." Baras's voice cut through her thoughts. "How would you evaluate his performance?"

"An invaluable asset," she responded without hesitation, her eyes still fixed on him.

As far as Imperial officers went, he was quite tolerable and as efficient as he claimed to be. His gaze met hers, and he nodded slightly before turning his attention back to Baras.

"High praise indeed," Baras murmured. "Lieutenant, I am promoting you to Captain, effective immediately, and will arrange for you to take a post at the location of your choosing. You are dismissed."

A noble gesture, but Baras's generosity was rarely freely given. Quinn pulled himself up, bowing to Baras.

"Thank you, my lord."

The relief in his voice surprised her, but she couldn't blame him. This planet was one giant war zone, covered with land mines, craters, and vicious wildlife. Quinn hesitated at the head of the stairs before turning back to Vyra.

"It's been an honor serving you, my lord. Perhaps our paths will cross again."

She swore she saw the corner of his mouth twitch, but he had already turned away and strode out of the room. An odd farewell.

"Now," Baras's voice drew her attention back to him. "We have much to discuss regarding your future."

"My lord, despite the Jedi's failure to secure evidence of your spies operating within the Republic, she seemed certain that they had an advantage over us. 'Your doom,' she called it."

Baras rubbed his metal chin thoughtfully. "The desperate threats of a cowed animal?"

"I sensed truth in her words. I took the liberty of acquiring the prisoner and will deliver her to you on Dromuund Kaas."

"Ah, very good, apprentice. Your initiative serves you well, yet again. I will await your arrival."

The hologram flickered off. Vyra turned to survey the silent room. The consoles, once full of Imperials, were now eerily empty. The feeling something wasn't quite right crawled up her spine, but she ignored it. This backwater was getting to her, and paranoia was a common sensation after speaking with her master.

The sun was nearly set when she emerged from the office to reunite with Vette, who was waiting for her on a nearby bench. Vyra sighed, fingering the burnt tear in her robe and wincing as it brushed the blackened skin beneath.

"Balmorra has not been kind to my attire." She sniffed her arm and grimaced. "I can still smell that Ensign on myself. I believe it's time to acquire some new clothing. I refuse to smell like a refresher all the way to Dromuund Kaas."

Vette groaned in frustration, falling in step next to Vyra with a sigh. "Hey, the longer we stall before going back to that planet, the happier I am. Maybe you should find that Lieutenant before we leave."

Vyra smirked, amused by Vette's continual interest in her flirting. "It's Captain now."

"He got a promotion? What exactly were you two doing in there?" Vette grinned, cocking an eyebrow. "He did seem awfully eager to serve."

Vyra rolled her eyes. "Baras's doing, not mine."

Toying with him was all she had intended to do, though she would have relished the look of confusion on his face if he had taken the bait and she had been able to slap him down. It was laughable how easily distracted some men were... men and that female custom's agent on Dromuund Kaas. Holding power over another was intoxicating, and she made it a point to wield all the weapons at her disposal.

A few vendors peddled their wares along the streets outside the spaceport, and they wandered between the kiosks, pausing at one manned by a Duros. It was piled high with stacks of faded fabric and an assortment of old and rusty objects. Vyra picked through the robes with two fingers. They looked like they had been picked off a dead body and smelled like... she bit back a gag.

"Do you have anything else? Anything less...pungent?"

"Sith no need clothes," the Duros garbled, struggling to form the words in Basic.

"I beg to disagree." Vyra wiped her hand on her robes in disgust. "That would hardly be practical for combat although...it would be an effective distraction. Unless I was fighting droids."

He waved his green hands dismissively at the clothing. "Sith want old. Secret." He set a black cube in front of her.

"I cannot wear this," she said dryly, pinning him with her gaze.

"Rare," he insisted, tapping it with a single claw. "Look. Secret. Very..rerug erikth lethun jurn fa tu."

"I...beg your pardon?"

"He said there's a secret inside if you can get it open," Vette cut in, leaning her elbows back on the kiosk to gaze out at the street

Vyra stared at her until Vette turned away, twitching the tip of one of her headtails between her fingers. "So I speak a few languages. Perks of being a slave."

"A useful skill I would have liked to know you possessed," Vyra said, resting a hand on her hip and raising her eyebrows accusingly.

Vette opened her mouth to respond, but the Duros grabbed her arm, gesturing at Vyra. "Puthka mak. Siktuth puthka mat ekith."

"He wants me to tell you it's the only one like it in the galaxy. Very difficult to find."

"I assume that's code for stolen," Vyra smirked, placing the cube in the palm of her hand and examining it curiously.

It was pitch black with no marks or scratches marring its ebony surface, but the strange material gave off a soft glow in the light of the setting sun. She ran a finger along the side, and it suddenly shifted, morphing into a new shape.

"Intriguing..." She glanced up at the Duros who nodded eagerly. "How much?"

"Five hundred."

"Five HUNDRED?" she exclaimed. "Hasn't anyone told you it's not wise to shake down a Sith."

The Duros sighed, tapping his forehead agitatedly. "Four hundred."

"Two."

He spat, waving his hands angrily at her. "Three five."

His basic improved drastically when it came to negotiating. She set the cube back on the kiosk.

"I'd rather find a vendor who actually wants to sell something."

He grabbed at her sleeve as she turned away.

"Fine, fine. For Sith. Two five."

But she barely heard him. Two Sith men, Human and Zabrak, dressed in dark robes stood on the opposite side of the street, their eyes fixed on her. Her heartbeat throbbed against her sternum as adrenaline coursed through her body and the tension that always ached in her limbs before battle, returned, twitching her fingertips. Neither of them moved when she met their gazes, but they spoke quietly to each other, too softly for her to hear. The Duros yanking on her sleeve pulled her attention back to him. She tossed a stack of credits onto the kiosk and snatched the cube.

"It's time we returned to the ship, anyway. My training robes will have to do until we return to..."

She glanced over her shoulder to see the Sith trailing behind as she strode away from the kiosk toward the spaceport. The fight with the Jedi had been tiring, particularly after carving her way into the arms factory, but she'd gladly give them a fight if they asked for it. They would learn their mistake when she left them bleeding out in the middle of the street.

She shoved the cube into Vette's hands and pushed her out of the street before planting herself in front of them, stance wide, teeth bared, sabers in hand but not yet drawn. They paused then, the Zabrak murmuring something and the Human nodding, before they resumed their steady pace toward her. The Zabrak's robes brushed hers as he passed, but neither made a move to attack and eventually, they disappeared around the corner. Her sagged in relief when she was sure they were gone. She needed to get off this planet.

**Author's Note:**

> This story will contain spoilers for the Sith Warrior storyline. Again, **SPOILERS AHEAD.** Read on at your own risk.


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